


Neolights in Zylith

by SincerelyQ



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Gen, dnd fanfiction fantasy spells detective adventure journey shortstory
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:13:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26891230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SincerelyQ/pseuds/SincerelyQ
Summary: Our story takes place in the medieval city of Swordcoast. Or, at least that's what it would've been called so long ago. It's August 21st, 3709. Zylith is a city of technical prowess. Advancements made to society changed the pristine, fantastical landscape into a permanently disfigured in a metal jungle of steel cables, neon lights, and slick piping. Scene shift. The setting is moderate rain, midnight. Footsteps fall quietly upon an alleyway. The reflection upon the muddled puddles on the ground reveals two figures, racing down a pathway. Clangs ring throughout the area as they trek up a narrow staircase with no armrests, up to a different level. People have been going missing in the slums recently. The authorities want nothing to do with the case, but rumors tell of an agency in town that helps with these types of problems.(IMPORTANT!) Please read the foreword! It's alright if you just skim through it, but if you don't read through it at all the order of the chapters may confuse you at first.





	1. Foreword

I originally wanted to create this series to have something to do during my dry spell without a D&D session, but while writing it I came to realize that creating an adaptation of my one-shot would be a lot more interesting than I thought. How would I write turn-based combat? How would I incorporate innate D&D lore, like races and spells? How would I delve into every player's perspective? It ended up being a lot of fun to work through, although there will be some things I have to disclose now for you to fully understand what's going on.

Firstly, I will not be explaining game terms in the story. This sounds like a terrible idea, but I intended from the start to transcribe Neolights in Zylith into a legible story that can be enjoyed with no experience in D&D. There will be the occasional vocab word that will leave some of you confused, and for those I apologize. Google is your friend. I promise this will rarely happen though.

Secondly, if you took a look at the chapter names you might have noticed something very strange. Why are there multiple first chapters? You might be familiar with the general adventure/fantasy formatting of having the narrator shift every chapter in chronological order. A famous example of this case is Rick Riordan's Heroes of Olympus series, a piece of writing I hold in very high regard. Someone describes a sequence of events, and when it ends it is shifted to the next narrator.

But all of my players are experiencing things at the same time, in the present. What if you wanted to see the perspective of one of your favorite characters during an important event, but the narration had shifted to another person? I decided to try something new. Every main character (and some others) in Neolights in Zylith will be getting their own POV. I'm basically choosing to write the same thing four or more times. The format will be as follows. A name, followed by the number of the chapter.

You might be asking some things by now. "Why would I read the same thing 4 times" or "What if I dislike one of the characters?" are good starters. To answer, I implore you to read the first chapters to see for yourself. If you're content going down one route, that's completely fine. But for those of you who notice and enjoy the subtle differences between the characters perspective, congrats! There's a particular joy of seeing different views.

With all of that out of the way, it's time for you to start reading! 

I welcome you to Zylith.


	2. Annalise 1

Annalise // August 21st, 3709 // 0130

THUD. THUD.

I woke up to knocking on our door. Hm? Why am I laying on my back in the middle of the shop? I must have dozed off while helping Trent with his research.

"Ugh..." I slowly lifted myself off the floor. Some of the papers scattered across the floor were now stuck to my shoulders. I brushed them off and stretched out my body a little bit while doing a quick scan of how the room looked. Four chairs with magazine stands on either end, two shelves lined with random artifacts and trinkets, and the waist-high counter behind me. I don't see any light coming through from the windows, so I must've been knocked out for pretty long.

SNORE

Ah. That rumbling sound must be coming from Trent. I'll just take care of the people at the door on my own. No need to wake him up.

I pulled a chair over to stand on and look through the peephole. Hmm... let's see here... Two hooded figures? It must be important if they're here this late at night standing in the rain. We've had weirder clients. I scooted the chair aside and began unlocking the door. God, I'll never understand why he decided to have so many bolts and locks on the door. If anyone really wanted to get in, they would just break through the window right next to it.

Click!

I wheeled the door open for whoever these people might be. "Sorry, we're closed right now. You can reach Trent's Agency by..." My voice slowly faltered. A tiefling and a dragonborn officer?

"Ah, thank you." A silky smooth voice came from the one on the right. Only a grunt of gratitude came from the larger behemoth on the left. As they stepped into the room, the warm glow cast from the single lightbulb we had hanging in the middle of the room started to reveal their characteristics.

The woman on the right is taller than me (but who isn't...), however not by a large amount. Her ruby red skin gave the impression that she was a tiefling. Her bright accessories are uncommon to find in a place like this, and her sleek dress seemed to be designed for more formal attire. Ah. We made eye contact. She crouched a little to give me a playful smile and a half-wave. "Is Trent here?"

"Yeah um... let me go get him for you." Thank god his snoring slowly snuffled out while they were entering or else our reputation would be going down the drain. I cautiously walked behind the counter towards Trent while keeping my eyes on the two. The dragonborn stands firm and unmoving, his expression unchanging. Weird. He's super large though, he could easily be three times my height.

I bent over. "Hey Trent. Wake up." I whispered, lightly slapping his face.

"No... stop... I am the Archduke of Dalandria!" He grumbled while flailing his arms at me.

A little ticked off, I kicked him in his side.

He got up abruptly with a shout and started looking around, stopping when he saw the other two people in the room.

"Oh. Hello." He quickly pulled me under the counter. "Who the hell are these people in our shop?" He whispered furiously. He checked his watch.

"We're closed!"

"I know but look at them! It's a tiefling and a dragonborn together at this time of night? Must be something pretty urgent don't you think Trent?"

He peeked back over the counter for a quick second before returning down to talk to me again.

"What, little Miss Rich Girl and Vigilante Cop? The cop is probably just looking for an adrenaline rush and the tiefling could be bothered by any little detail. It doesn't mean anything."

Not even pausing to question how he could get that much information in such a short span of time, I continued "You might as well hear them out. I mean, I already woke you up and all."

I had a point, and Trent was beginning to see it also. "Fine. I'll listen to their story. But I'm not letting them into my office, I haven't cleaned that up yet."

He popped out and put on a fake smile. "Yes, I am Trent. Is there anything I could do for you?" I hate that retail voice he uses whenever he talks to clients. Ugh. So gross.

"Yeah, you can." The dragonborn's voice was gruff and solid as a stone. The tiefling tossed two pictures of something on the counter, I wasn't tall enough to see what it was, but from Trent's look it wasn't good. "We have a serial killer in the Lower Quadrant."

I looked at Trent and he looked back. His mind was racing and I could see a cusp of a smile forming. I fell back into my stool and gave a small sigh. Looks like it's gonna be another long night.


	3. Trent 1

Trent // August 21st, 3709 // 0135

I was awakened by a hard kick to my side.

"AAAaa--" There were two strangers in my shop. "Oh. Hello." I cleared my throat and reached for Annalise, who I presume is the one who woke me up, pulling her under the counter. My mind raced for a second as I tried to recall what I saw. A smaller slim cloaked figure was standing next to a particularly large individual. They both were wearing hoods, drenched. They were soaking all of my papers! I guess I did have them scattered all across the ground, the embroidered seats, the magazine stand, the windows, the countertop, the-- my mind is wandering again. It tends to do that when I just wake up.

"Who the hell are these people in our shop?" It was dark out, wasn't it? I checked my watch. 1:32 AM. "We're closed!"

Annalise looked at me with the same vigor I was presenting her. "I know but look at them! It's a tiefling and a dragonborn together at this time of night? Must be something pretty urgent don't you think Trent?" Annalise was always the type to get involved in everyone's business. Must be that young elven blood.

I briefly got up to take a better look at them. Immediately, I started scanning. Left, tiefling. Bright red-colored skin. Uncommon to find anywhere, presumably a unique heritage? Three distinct pieces of gold jewelry in three different locations, maybe more. Fake? Most likely. But she wouldn't be wearing fake jewelry in the slums, so she must be someone upper class. That dress I'm discerning behind the cloak seems to verify my thoughts. That article of clothing must go for 30, no, 40 gold pieces and I'm being generous.

On the right side we have a cop. I've never seen a regular person hold themself like that. The badge isn't even hidden, you can see it shining under the poncho. But what kind of cop accompanies a single person who's in trouble, especially to a detective agency like mine? Taking her back to the station, I could understand. This is a reach. He must've been on patrol beforehand, most likely in his free time. The real question is if he's some thrill-seeker power abuser itching for an arrest, or some vigilante "for justice" cop. Leaning towards the latter if he's come here. It's a 30/70 frankly.

I bent down again to reconvene with my partner. "What, little Miss Rich Girl and Vigilante Cop? The cop is probably just looking for an adrenaline rush and the tiefling could be bothered by any little detail. It doesn't mean anything."

Annalise pondered for a bit. I felt smug for a little before realizing what she was going to say.

"You might as well hear them out. I mean, I already woke you up and all." She suggested.

This was sadly true. My sleeping habits of late have been, short to say, less than ideal. There was no chance I was going back to sleep after being woken up even if I desired so.

"Fine. I'll listen to their story. But I'm not letting them into my office, I haven't cleaned that up yet." Might as well get this request over with, why bother going through the hassle of bringing them in if I'm just going to usher them out.

I got up before Annalise could say anything. "Yes, I am Trent. Is there anything I could do for you?" I said in my most optimistic tone. At least I could make myself presentable.

"Yeah, you can." Hm. Clear, rich voice. Non-smoker. Sounds like a green officer. At least, he's very liberal with the way he's addressing me.

The tiefling opened her purse and took some printed pictures out. As the clasp unfastened and the bag opened, I noticed a deck of cards, pristine condition. Maybe I'd have to reconsider my theory. What kind of person carries something like that when going out in the middle of the night?

The pictures were blurry, but there wasn't a doubt as to what they were meant to entail. Two different women are getting abducted by a group of masked individuals. I was only able to make out a background setting before the dragonborn started speaking again.

"We have a serial killer in the Lower Quadrant."

I made eye contact with Annalise. I knew what she was thinking, and I started to smile. She gave a sigh and fell back into her seat, while I rested my hands on the counter for support. We've got a case.


	4. Rex 1

Rex // August 21st, 3709 // 0125

Zylith has always been a place of sprawling towers. It feels like engineers build up as much as they expand out. It's a great way to build more affordable housing, but it's also the reason why I'm currently walking up 20 floors of stairs to get to Trent's Agency. Escalators were under maintenance right now.

It's absolutely pouring right now. The forecast predicts a quarter-inch of rain over the Lower Quadrant, about enough to be classified as heavy rain.

The city was erected next to the ocean. When the clouds are blown in by the wind they're blocked by the high-rise buildings of the Middle Quadrant. The Lower Quadrant, being the area between the bay and the skyscrapers, take most of the rain. Usually, this means often and heavy storms. It also results in an almost permanent mist.

The sound of metal jangling as my boots hit the stairs combined with the more tremolo sound of the rain pitter-pattering against it gives off a very eerie, discordous feeling.

I've always thought that this was an odd part of town to set up shop in. It lies at an intersection between the Lower and Middle Quadrant with a grand skyline view of the city since it's so far up, not that it means anything with the number of buildings blocking out the scenery.

My cloaked partner stops and whispers, "There it is." We had reached the end of the stairs, thankfully.

A wooden door between walls of steel. Trent's agency. The only building in the town mostly made out of non-metallic materials. It's strange, but who am I to judge. No markers, no signs, just a window with a light on. A staple icon.

I knock against the door and hear stirring inside. The door is opened by an elven preteen.

"Sorry, we're closed right now. You can reach Trent's Agency by..."

Her voice comes to a drawl. I lean in to hear her finish the sentence.

Cassandra motions towards me with her hand and opens the door fully. She says something to the elf and then walks in. I follow suit.

A single antique lightbulb near the center of the ceiling fills the room with a dim, yellow glow. Bookshelves line the walls, leaving tight room for waiting chairs. There's a wooden staircase, going up to a second floor with a counter directly left of it, paper sprawled everywhere.

It's a strange sight, everything here is old and outdated. Usually, shops are decked out with metal beams, and cold, hard seats. Real books are unheard of, they're mostly digitally stored inside screens for physical space. Instead, there's an antiquely, warm atmosphere here.

The elven girl and Cassandra chat for a little bit. I wiped my shoes down on their welcome mat. Water corrodes the wood very easily without proper upkeep, and it doesn't feel like these two know what they're doing from the looks of this disorganized mess. The elf goes back, presumably to get Trent.

I started hanging up my cloak on their coat rack. I've always respected Trent, what I've heard about him. As a private contractor, he's free to take on cases that actually help people. I'm stuck in a political hellscape. He charges the strangest things as payment. Junk from the poor, exorbitant amounts of money from the rich. Usually, he just takes people's ancient relics and hangs it up. It's not like it's worth anything to them.

Trent appears from behind the counter. "Yes, I am Trent. Is there anything I could do for you?"

He's got a solid build. Hardened. Well, you can't be living in parts like these helping people without having some muscle on you. There's a bulge under his coat pocket that he's evidently trying to conceal. A hand-arm of sorts.

"Yeah, you can." I rumbled. I started making my way to the counter and gave Cassandra a small nod. She spills the pictures onto the counter. I turn the pictures so that they're upright for him. "We have a serial killer in the Lower Quadrant."

Trent flashes a look to his assistant. She simply stares back. He smiles. I crack my knuckles.

It looks like we're getting somewhere.


	5. Cassandra 1

Cassandra // August 21st, 3709 // 0125

I walked up an endless amount of slick ridden floors of stairs to get here, and by God I'll get my worth. The rain was absolutely POURING at this point, creating this constant trickling sound as it fell onto the steps before it.

As I take a step, my foot slips on a particularly sloped stair. "Oop-" A hand comes up and grabs my waist, knocking the breath out of me.

"Care." The dragonborn besides me utters. I take a bit to regain my composure."Ha... yeah." I lock on to a warm light in the distance. "There it is," I whisper. Trent's agency. For someone who's all about solving problems for people, he's giving me a new one just by getting here.

The stairs have stopped at this point, and all that remained was a metal braced path. We rushed forward, ushered by the shade of the night and our cloaks. Rex gives a solid knock against the... wooden door? A strange commodity for sure, but it seems very fitting. A moment passes. I glance around for a bit, feeling a bit awkward standing in front of a shop for so long.

Wow... what a view. It's been a while since I've last been in the Middle Quadrant, and the differences are stark. Being up so high lets me see the metallic jungle before me, a mesh of railed pathways and skyscraper buildings. The neon lights of the city are reflecting across the puddles spread profusely throughout the ground to create a kaleidoscope of color. Even with the torrential rain, you can still make out the sounds of the rumblings of the skyTrak. It's thrilling being up here.

The sound of latches brings my attention back to the door. I must not forget what I came here for, no matter how grand the skyline.

Creak

My eyes move down to catch a short elven girl rubbing her eyes. "Sorry, we're closed right now. You can reach Trent's Agency by..." her laced, silvery voice cuts short as she gets a better look at us. I sense a feeling of uncertainty coming from her. We were a strange duo to come so late at night, and I pressed my advantage. I reached for the door.

"Ah, thank you." I gingerly said. Gesturing to Rex to follow me, I took a step in.

My... what a room. In the sea of steelworks called Zylith, Trent's shop is composed of wooden, light materials. It gives a soft, warm feeling, the light from an oil lit lamp cascading a dim glow throughout the room. The mess of papers and poor seating arrangement gives a very homely feeling. A place of solace.

I sensed some eyes on my, and looked at the elven girl. If I remembered correctly... Trent had a partner who's name was Annalise. Reports of her said she was a bladed demon, but looking now at her fuzzled, short blonde hair and loose nightgown I couldn't help but be charmed by her.

I fell down a bit, and give her an amiable wave. "Is Trent here?"

She snapped out of her small stupor.

"Yeah um... let me go get him for you."

She turned to go behind the corner, and after a couple of seconds, an audible THUD noise echoed throughout the room. A human man jumped up from behind the counter with a yelp. He looked over at us, "Oh. Hello", and immediately ducked back down. There were some small whispers behind the counter before he got up for a second, looked us both up and down, and hid again.

I gave a small chuckle. He was bizarre. He had dark skin, a ponytail, and shimmering eyes that felt like they were boring you down. I had a sense he was a bit of a frugal man, mostly from his battered up attire. His posture is beat up and, from the look of this place, he's a bit of a mess. Despite all these signs of uncertainty, something about him just gave me hope.

He reappeared much more brightly lit than before. "Yes, I am Trent. Is there anything I could do for you?"

"Yeah, you can." Rex gave me a bit of a scare. He was furling up his cloak on the coatrack. I suppose this is my cue. I pulled out the pictures from my purse and tossed them onto the counter.

Rex followed up by walking over to the counter. "We have a serial killer in the Lower Quadrant."

My mind raced over all the possible responses we could get. The police already threw my concerns away at the mention of harm coming to those in the Lower Quadrant. It was a shot in the dark to get help at this point. I looked at his expression. He was deep in thought, but I could faintly make out the beginnings of a smile. I gave a sigh of relief.

It'll be alright.


	6. Author's Note 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't actually a part of the story, but rather a behind the scenes sort of thing. Read on if you wish.

That wraps up a pretty short first chapter huh? The first step is always the hardest, as they say. I had a lot of trouble deciding how exactly the format would work, how each character would contribute to the story, and how much creative freedom I would have when differing from the original campaign.

But it's turned out into something presentable, at least.

This segment will be mostly dedicated to behind-the-scenes about the story, for those who are interested in the process behind the madness. A lot of information was subtly (and not so subtly) dumped on you guys in the first chapter, so let's just get started!

First thing I want to get out of the way. Yes, I really did separate regions of the city into literal names for their socioeconomic and sea levels. Lower Quadrant stands for the slums, Middle and Upper hold exactly what you think they do. I was too lazy to create symbolical names for each part of the city. But it makes a little more sense than you might think.

I took a page out of history for this one. Case Study: New Orleans. A location that has huge barriers in race, poverty, and lifespan. It is heavily under sea level, practically a bowl at this point, and has constantly built levees to protect itself from the river current besides it. Hurricanes and flooding hit the most prone areas, which are the lower sections of the city, causing property destruction on the poor constantly. Thus, a cycle is made and distinctions between sections of the city are made.

Although Zylith isn't nearly as bad as this (not to mention there's a lot of history I'm not going to cover in both the case study and our fictitious city) there are some natural elements of the world dividing the land. The rain shadow effect is a real thing most prevalent in areas near the coast. The closer you are to the ocean the more chance there is of high humidity, rain, and/or fog generally. Zylith is constructed of behemoth buildings, and clouds are almost stopped in their tracks when faced against it, meaning they rain in the area closest to where they came from, in this case, the Lower Quadrant.

Moving on from the boring history and worldbuilding stuff, let's talk about the campaign and characters!

This particular campaign is called a "one-shot", and for those of you who don't know, it stands for a game that can be completed in one session of 4 hours give or take. Due to player inexperience and this being my first time creating something like this, I mistook the length and the playtime is actually roughly 8-9 hours. Chapter 1 only shows the first 15-30 minutes, so we have plenty of material to go.

I wanted to make this one-shot to get my players into the habit of roleplaying, so I created the characters for them in this instance. They're all very unique with complex backgrounds, but they all have something they pillar to, a defining trait. It'll become more obvious what they are in the incoming future.

The writing process is very different from the game, and much of the stuff written is completely fabricated. The only thing that I'm taking from the campaign is the decisions the players made, which is what I feel is the most important for an adaptation like this.

That'll wrap up this note! Let me know you like something like this to break the pacing, or if you want it to be a separate work for reading to not interrupt flow (or let me know if you hate it and just don't want it). The next chapter will be coming within a month (it depends on how much traction this gets and how much motivation I have).


	7. ??????

?????? // August 20st, 3709 // 0030

"Open up Jocelyn. Payments due."

Footsteps. Cabinets opening, and closing.

"I know you're in there. Let's make this easier for the both of us, hm?"

The pacing is speeding up, it's erratic. Then, it stops in front of the door. A low hum starts to play as it slides open.

She's in disarray. Her clothes are stained, hair unkempt.

A whimper escapes her. "Please, I-I just need a little more time."

I had to stop myself from bursting out in laughter. It would scare her! A little more, give it a little more.

"Tsk, tsk. You agreed to the terms. There's no more time. Do you have any, uh, particular requests in the form of your 'payment'?"

Her eyes are watering up. My heartbeat is quickening.

"Please." It's a whisper now.

"Alright. I'll tell you what. I feel bad. I'll let you go."

Her eyes widen. They're red, swollen. She says nothing, but her posture is doubtful.

"I'm serious! I suggest you leave the city. My superiors will be mad at me, you see. If you aren't here, then there's no blame."

She's blank-faced.

I cower her against the wall and give a smile. "Understand?"

She slowly nods. Hesitantly, she takes a step out. A couple of paces go by with her staring at me seeing if it's too good to be true. Then she turns around and starts to run.

Or, that would've been the case.

My claws pierce a hole straight through her back. What a feeble build. It just went straight through, no drag.

"Ah... ah..." She's grasping at my arm currently protruding out of her chest.

I gently cover her mouth. "Shh.... we don't want to wake anyone up, hm?"

Her body is contracting. She's pressing up against me, fighting to live. I can feel her mouth opening underneath my fingers, but there are no sounds coming out. Slowly, she goes limp.

The body's still warm. I pull it up against me. Now, this is good stuff right here.


End file.
